


Drown

by the_storm_winds



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Resurrection, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sparkbonds, Sparkmerging, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_storm_winds/pseuds/the_storm_winds
Summary: Humankind has betrayed the Autobots, hunting them down, and when Ratchet is among those slaughtered, the pain of a broken sparkbond combined with the loss of his closest friend leaves Optimus facing his darkest hour.He finds a kindred spirit in one human, and it turns out that perhaps… there may be a way to fix things.





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

> Because sometimes watching AoE and seeing half of your OTP die gives you feelings and plotbunnies.
> 
> Titled after [a Bring Me The Horizon song](https://youtu.be/UGOjkvRRNwI). It's great and perfect for this please listen to it.

Optimus rested hidden in an old building, exhausted as his self-repair overclocked itself in effort to repair the deep wounds that stung his frame.

_An ambush. Humans had betrayed them. Why?_

He'd sent his Autobots into hiding after the first attack. Disguising themselves was their best defence until they could find out who was hunting them and why. Scattering themselves was a risk, but they were far less likely to be identified this way, and they had comm units to keep track of one another. However, many of them were already silent. Optimus had no way of knowing if that meant they were captured, killed, or simply thought replying would give them away.

Ratchet was alive and well thus far, at least; he could feel his presence, his emotions through their sparkbond. He leaned into it and Ratchet wrapped around him, the two offering each other the silent comfort that kept them sane through vorns of perpetual war.

Somewhere around 2 A.M. in human time, a burst of fear seeped through the bond. _Was Ratchet in danger?_

::Optimus, I've been found,:: a comm confirmed his worry.

::By whom?::

Ratchet took a klick to reply. ::Humans. They're— _ah,_ :: he cut off with a grunt of pain. :: _Frag,_ Optimus, I'm down.::

::Ratchet!::

Curse his foolishness for separating them! The Autobots were stronger when they stood together, he _knew_ that. Now Ratchet was in danger and he was trapped here, leagues away, unable to even move without reopening wounds and potentially bleeding out. Ratchet had scolded him well enough earlier that day, and he'd been gradually making his way in Optimus's direction.

Another message came through. ::It's Lockdown. He's looking for you.::

His sparkrate quickened. Lockdown was bad news. If he had Ratchet incapacitated… ::Give him what he wants. I'll make an escape somehow.::

::In your condition? You absolutely will not.::

::I'll be fine. _Please,_ :: he added. ::I can't lose you.::

Ratchet didn't answer. The fear from the bond calmed, a quiet resignation taking its place. Panic boiled up in Optimus. :: _Tell him,_ Ratchet. That's an _order._ ::

::I'm sorry, Optimus.::

::Ratchet, _don't—_ :: His comm met static, and for a terrifying nanoklick he was in the dark, unknowing of Ratchet's fate.

Pain struck like a knife in his spark, twisting, ripping him in two. A voice he scarcely recognized as his own cried out, the sound rough and bestial with agony and grief as his cables contracted and he transformed without intending to. He wound up on his knees, digits scraping across the hard floor as he squeezed his optics shut, reaching out desperately for his sparkmate.

He felt him, for the briefest nanoklick—a contorted, weak flicker of sorrowful regret as Ratchet used his last breath to push through a wordless apology. He grasped at those threads with all his being until even they were torn from him, leaving behind an emptiness so horrifying his processor tried to reject it because it couldn't, _could not possibly_ be real. His autonomics pushed him to curl in on himself, anything to protect his spark from what was hurting it.

With difficulty he wrestled his control back, returning to the decrepit alt mode he'd taken as a disguise. Energon was leaking through his internals; changing forms had reopened his wounds, but the pain was dwarfed by the gaping hole where Ratchet's constant presence, half of his life force had been uprooted and ripped away. His spark seemed to bleed, the edges left by the bond raw and ragged.

Ratchet, his best friend and closest companion. _Ratchet…_ _his Ratchet_ was… was _gone._

His emotional processors reeled, unable to keep up with the shock. He felt numb, his world a blind fog of emptiness and pain. Critical damage and energon level warnings flashed meaninglessly on his HUD as he folded in on himself until he could no longer maintain consciousness, finally slipping into the dreamless oblivion of stasis.

 

* * *

 

Cade ducked out of the abandoned barn where they were sheltering for the night, unable to sleep. Fresh air. That would help. He just needed to clear his head. He leaned against the outside wall, inhaling deep breaths and trying to think of anything but the stress of being on the run and worry for his daughter.

A faint metallic noise caught his attention, and he peered around the corner. Optimus Prime was in his robot form, sitting on the grass and looking up at the stars. He shifted minutely, and Cade noticed his hand was positioned over the center of his chest, where his spark was hidden. Curious, he crept closer.

 _“Ratchet…”_ Optimus whispered, fingers tightening over his chest plates with a faint scraping sound. His voice was heavy, and static crackled in it in a way that was eerily similar to a human voice cracking with emotion.

Ratchet… the medic the Autobots had lost before Cade had met them—the one whose head they'd found in the laboratory. He recalled the Prime's fit of rage at the discovery.

“You two were close?” Cade spoke up quietly.

Optimus looked down at him, lowering his hand from his chest. “Yes,” he answered, exhaling a gust of air that made the word almost a sigh.

That was familiar in a way that hit close to home, touching on old wounds. “‘I'm sorry’ just doesn't cut it, I know,” he said. “But I really am. Sorry. For your loss.”

Optimus said nothing, but his head inclined in a tiny nod. Cade sat beside him, turning his gaze towards the stars. “Tessa's mother,” he began, “was the kindest, most beautiful, most incredible woman I've ever met. I loved her so much, and I was beyond lucky to have her.”

The Prime was watching him, and Cade hoped he was making the right choice in telling him this now.

_You're not alone._

“She died of illness less than a year after we married,” he finished. “Tessa hardly remembers her.”

Optimus blinked. “I am sorry.”

Cade gave him a sad smile. “All these years and I still miss her.” He looked back to the sky. “Especially on nights like these.”

They sat in companionable solitude for some time, listening to the quiet night sounds while a soft breeze brushed over them.

Eventually Optimus spoke again. “We were bonded,” he said simply. Cade looked at him, curious, and he elaborated, “It is a physical and spiritual joining of sparks, only breakable by death.”

Cade's eyes widened as he realized what that meant. A physical bond between their sparks—their _souls_ —must have been unimaginable closeness.

And to lose that…

“There is emptiness now,” Optimus said, voice soft, “where we once shared a life force.”

Cade had no words. He dropped his gaze, looking ahead at the tree line in the distance.

“Did it hurt?”

“More than dying,” he answered, with a gravity that led Cade to wonder if he meant it literally.

 

* * *

 

It was hard to believe that the battle was over. The Seed had been safely disposed of—detonated on an uninhabited planet somewhere outside their solar system—and the Autobots were attempting to repair their relationship with the government and humanity.

Optimus went to what meetings were demanded of him, but outside negotiations he was quiet, even more than he'd been previously. Cade suspected he was still considering taking his few remaining Autobots and leaving.

He'd gotten the rest of their story, from what had happened with Sam Witwicky to Sentinel's resurrection and subsequent betrayal. Optimus really did know death. The knowledge sobered him; what he'd said hadn't been a metaphor.

It gave him an idea, though. He caught the Prime alone at the first chance he got. “So this— This… _Matrix_ thing,” he began. “If it brought you and Sentinel back to life, couldn't it do the same for the other Autobots you've lost?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Optimus answered. “The Matrix is a relic of the a Primes; they do not bend the laws of life and death lightly. And besides that, there must be an intact frame to restore.” He turned his head away. “You saw what those humans did.”

Cade hesitated, considering the possibility he'd thought of. “We have most of his head, and his spark chamber. Those are the most important parts, right? What if we could rebuild the rest of him?”

Optimus turned to stare at him. The suggestion had gotten his attention, at the very least.

“It's worth a try, isn't it?”

 

* * *

 

The restoration was complete in less than a human week. The KSI had Ratchet's full blueprint, as well as copies of all the data from his hard drives. The latter part disturbed Optimus, but he took some solace in the fact that they'd been unable to undo many of his encryptions—even in death, his CMO wasn't easily hacked. And it was a blessing that any information that had been damaged in the melting could be returned to him.

Ratchet's rebuilt frame lay lifeless on a laboratory table. His plating was more impeccable than Optimus could ever remember seeing, the paint bright and shiny without so much as a hint of a scratch. Aside from that, it looked identical to how he'd had last seen him. Looking down at him now, Optimus could almost belief he was merely in stasis, but the biting emptiness inside him served as a constant reminder otherwise.

He removed the Matrix from his chest, optics never leaving Ratchet's frame. He didn't expect anything out of this. He couldn't. If he were to allow himself to hope, only for it to fail, he… That would hurt far too much. But if there was even the slightest chance…

 _Primus, please. I beg this of you,_ he thought, closing his digits around the relic in his palm. He vented deeply, then raised it up and thrust it into Ratchet's empty spark chamber.

He pulled his servo back and waited. Nothing happened.

A klick passed, then another. He shuttered his optics. He hadn't expected it to work. But he had hoped, despite himself.

Suddenly there was a pull on his spark. He doubled over with a grunt of surprise, catching himself on the table Ratchet's frame lay on.

“Optimus?” Cade's voice called out from somewhere far away. “Optimus? Optimus, are you—”

His vision flashed white, and he glimpsed mountains. A setting sun. Silhouetted figures far larger than himself. He caught snatches of speech, and though the words were not meant for him, they echoed down his backstrut and through his frame.

_“… the other half of his spark…”_

_“… give the last of our descendants strength…”_

One turned to him, and spoke in a voice that resonated so deep it sent a shiver from his core all the way to his digit tips. “The most trying challenge you will face still lies ahead. Have courage. The fate of our race is tied more to this planet than you know.”

Before his processor had time to acknowledge the words, he was back in the present, vents gasping as his sensors worked to reorient themselves.

“Opti… mus?” a weak voice spoke his name.

His optics widened. _Ratchet!_

He scrambled up to look at him properly, to confirm, but already he knew it was true. He could feel him; the void in his spark now held _something,_ a presence, small and weak but it was _him._

Ratchet gave a small smile. “I hope you've kept yourself functioning well in my absence.”

He could never have kept the answering smile from creeping onto his faceplates. He reset his vocalizer before attempting to speak. “I've missed you, old friend.”

Ratchet eased himself up, looking around at his surroundings and the humans present.

“This is Cade Yeager,” Optimus introduced him to the one he now considered a friend. “He is the one responsible for your resurrection.”

“Nice to meet you, Ratchet.”

Ratchet inclined his helm in acknowledgement. “We owe you our deepest thanks. Both of us.” He stole a glance at Optimus. “It was my life or his, but I did not want to leave.”

The other human beside him cleared his throat. “Joshua Joyce. _I_ was the one to approve the decision to rebuild you.”

“I accept your apology,” Optimus said, “but leave it to Ratchet to decide for himself whether he wants to do the same.”

“Who is this man?” Ratchet asked.

“He played a role in the hunting and desecration of our kind. But he has since _repented—_ ” Optimus gave him a pointed look, and the man swallowed nervously “—and agreed to restore your frame as atonement.”

Ratchet stared at Joyce for a long moment. Finally he sighed. “If Optimus can find it in his spark to forgive you after what he's been through, then I won't put more stress on his shoulders by disagreeing.”

He shifted back to face Optimus, putting a servo on his forearm. “I'm so sorry for leaving you,” he said, just above a whisper. “I still remember when I lost you, and I wouldn't wish that pain on my worst enemy. I just… I _couldn't…_ ” His grip tightened. “I was selfish, Optimus. Forgive me.”

“I could never blame you, Ratchet. I cannot say I wouldn't have made the same choice.” He brought his free servo up to settle on his pauldron. “You are back with me now. That is what matters.”

Ratchet was here. Alive. His spark whirled and leapt and _ached_ with yearning in his chest; he needed to merge with him, _now._ He had to feel him, to restore their bond, to heal the wounds that still bled from where he'd lost him. His core locks disengaged on their own, and it took colossal effort not to let the plating swing open right then and there. _Now. He needed him now._

“We can… ah, leave you two for a bit, if you want some time alone to… catch up, or whatever it is you guys do,” Cade piped up. Whether he'd been able to see through their attempts at reservation or had merely used his common sense was uncertain, but either way Optimus was grateful.

“Yes, thank you, Cade.”

“Should we really be letting them keep secrets?” Joyce hissed before they were properly out of earshot.

“ _Personal_ catching up,” Cade hissed back. “Can you read a situation at all or are you blind and deaf? How would you feel if someone close to you was dead for a month? Leave them be.”

Optimus watched them go, then turned back to Ratchet.

“Come here,” Ratchet said, reaching for him. Optimus climbed onto the lab table beside him and gathered him into his lap. Ratchet leaned forward to kiss him, servos lifting to caress his helm and brush along sensitive neck cables, making him shiver. No more words were needed; they both felt the damaged bond and the same desperate need to repair it, to join with their counterpart and become _whole_ again.

He felt the shifting that was Ratchet opening his chest for him, and followed suit in the same instant. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, anticipation whirling almost painfully through their fields as they drew together.

The first touch of Ratchet's spark nearly made him sob with relief. He flowed into him, filling all the holes and cracks and pressing like a sweet balm to the raw edges where they'd been torn apart. Finally, _finally_ Optimus could feel him again, inside and all around him, not as a mere flickering echo but an ocean, a foundry fire that saturated and warmed him to his core. After what had felt like an eternity alone in darkness, he was _home, loved,_ and _Primus_ he never wanted to let Ratchet go.

Optimus buried his face against his neck, frame shuddering. He hadn't once allowed himself to shed tears while he was gone, but now the cleanser fluid leaked from his optics and he made no attempt to stop it. Here with Ratchet he was safe; he could be weak. The medic was his anchor, the beacon that lit his darkest nights, and they hid nothing from one another.

Ratchet's ventilations were as rough and shaky as his own, and he held on to Optimus tight enough to dent plating as they soaked each other in, weaving together as they had a thousand times before. Their sparks spun in tandem, molten energy flowing and merging as the rhythms aligned, and they lost themselves in each reverberating pulse that drew them closer, _closer_ still.

They found a resonance and suddenly there was no separation left; they were one, shared life in a single space and time. Their last vestiges of pain and fear melted away under the force of it, euphoria burning supernova-bright in their shared existence. They _had_ each other, here and now and forever; separation was less than a myth. They trembled together in their embrace, holding on to the complete union for as long as they could manage as the energy overflowed, arcing higher than their frames could physically contain.

It pushed outwards in a wave, sending charge surging through their circuits and wracking their frames in a baser sort of climax. Broken voices moaned their pleasure as it strung them out, tremoring, until they sagged strutless in each other's arms.

They shifted apart, shared spark becoming two once more, but they were two that were _connected,_ their bond renewed and strong enough to bind them together across universes. Optimus fell back, pulling Ratchet down to lie on top of him. He pressed a kiss to his forehelm, engine rumbling in a soft purr. Ratchet's field radiated affection and happiness, wrapping around him in an embrace that matched the embrace of his spark through the bond.

He leaned up to kiss Optimus, lips molding gently to his, and Optimus slid a servo up to cradle the back of his neck. His other servo traced familiar paths along his back plating, digits massaging sensitive cabling, and Ratchet hummed a pleased note, shivering subtly against him.

The kiss lingered, slow, comforting pressure turning to lazy brushes of intakes, until Ratchet shifted his helm to rest against Optimus's neck guard with a soft sigh. His ventilations slowed, and soon Optimus found himself drifting off as well, exhaustion catching up as he was lulled into recharge with the warmth of his sparkmate surrounding him.

 

* * *

 

When a handful of workers reported in for a morning shift, the sight they were met with was one they'd never thought to expect.

Two of the giant robotic aliens were lying tangled together, one atop the other in an intimate embrace, with soft smiles on their metal faces. These were the same beings they'd until recently been building copies of, and though it was generally known that they were on some level sentient, they certainly weren't considered as anything close to human.

But this… There was no mistaking this. That was love there. And as they unanimously decided the work in that room could be saved for another time, they found themselves wondering if, perhaps, their species weren't so different after all.


End file.
